More Things in Heaven and Earth
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: A young woman has arrived in Miami with incredibly accurate knowledge of a crime that hasn't been publicized yet, and Horatio Caine has to find out how she knows what she does. Was she involved? Rated M for later chapters. ON HOLD indefinitely.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The characters from CSI: Miami belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer productions, and probably a few other people I've forgotten to mention. Lily Montalvo, however, is my creation and I'd like to be consulted before she's used in anything else.**

**Dedications: To my tireless Beta-reader, Ithil-Valon, who gave me the courage to branch out past the Lord of the Rings fandom I've been writing in for a while now. She also occasionally gives me the necessary kick in the pants to keep me going. Thanks for that, hon. Also for Evendim, who gave me the courage to post that first LOTR story, and has graciously invited me to play in her playground anytime I like. Thank you so much. And last, but certainly not least, my partner AJ who is my strength and my rock, and provides interference when I'm writing so I can concentrate on plotlines… and helps me brainstorm when I run out of them. Usually with chocolate and late night movie-fests to, you know, research. Lots of eye candy. **

**THIS STORY IS SET IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that some features, places, and faces from canon won't fit. It is set sometime after the season 2 ender, 10-7, so Tim Speedle is no longer in the picture… but it is also set after Calleigh's return to Ballistics, so sometime during Season 3… I hope. I just can't see her anywhere else.**

**All that said, enjoy! If you like it, leave a review! If you don't like it, Leave a review! If you hate it and think I should be shot, leave a review! Get the hint? Just be certain and leave me an email address so I can answer you… because doesn't like individual reviewer responses any more. pout**

**Chapter One**

Lily Montalvo waited in the Reception area, trying to conceal her disquiet and distress. The police weren't apt to take her seriously; she'd learned that the hard way. The unusual or unexplainable wasn't often regarded as worthy of notice, much less action. But she had to try.

She noticed the man when he came in; he had such a _presence _it was hard not to. Tall, slender, but with an unmistakable air of strength about him. His hair was a little windblown, but otherwise he was very well ordered, right down to the sunglasses he wore.

He seemed to sense her eyes on him and turned quickly, removing his sunglasses as he came toward her. "Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked quietly.

The intensity of his blue eyes surprised her. "If you're Lieutenant Caine, then perhaps you may," she responded as she held out her hand. "I am Lily Montalvo. Please, is there somewhere we might talk? It is quite important, monsieur."

Caine's eyebrow raised a fraction as he took her hand. The soft lilt of her Cajun accent wasn't enough to cover the distress she was obviously feeling. He steered her into one of the interview rooms nearby and handed her into the waiting chair, and then hitched his hip on the table. "What exactly is it you want to discuss, Miss Montalvo?" he asked quietly. His curiosity was piqued; he had never seen this woman before though she seemed to recognize his face.

Lily faced him fearlessly, meeting his eyes with quiet determination. "I 'ave perhaps some information for you. You 'ave a case you are collecting evidence on, a murder. The victim's name was Busfield, no?" She waited for a moment, but Caine didn't speak. She pushed on. "You 'ave no suspects. I can give you one. 'is name is Eduardo Dominguez." She felt almost nauseas as she spoke the name, but continued nonetheless. It had to be said, that was part of her gift. It had to be shared or it would torment her nearly to madness. "'e shot Monsieur Busfield from an apartment across the alleyway, that's why you 'ave no evidence in the crime scene. You must check the apartment, you will find the shell casings there. Behind a chest of drawers in the bedroom, three of them." She was shaking by the time she finished and tore her eyes away reluctantly.

Caine regarded her steadily for a moment. She certainly knew the details of the case; what was bothering him now was how she had come by the information. Nothing more than the victim's name had been released yet, much less that they had no leads, no suspects, not much evidence at all. A couple of footprint castings from the backyard, but nothing more. And so far, they hadn't been able to match the castings. Moccasins were difficult to match since they were so often custom crafted. He rose from his perch. "Miss Montalvo, that is an incredible revelation. May I ask where you acquired this information?" His expression was hooded; she had even known the number of shots the victim had taken. He was starting to suspect there had been more than one shooter. Or that she had at least been present at the scene.

Lily sighed. This was the hard part. Somehow she had to convince him to at least check the scene. And judging from their discussion so far, and her previous experiences, it wasn't going to be easy. "I 'ave seen it, but not the way you think. It was shown to me. I 'ave suffered from the occasional vision since I was very young, Lieutenant Caine, and they 'ave yet to be proven false. Please, just check the apartment. The casings can be found be'ind the bureau. Monsieur Dominguez paid in advance and the landlord 'as yet to realize 'e is gone."

"Then you won't mind waiting here while we do some checking on your story." Caine nearly shook his head in disbelief, but managed to control the impulse. He kept his expression closed until he was out of the room with the door shut behind him. He motioned over one of the uniforms. "Let's keep Miss Montalvo under close watch for a while," he said softly. "We may need to take her into custody."

The uniform nodded and positioned himself at the door, and Caine headed off down the hallway toward the labs. "Eric, tell me you have something from those moccasins."

"Not yet, H, but Wolfe and I found something else." He gestured toward the younger man, who was pulling up a schematic of the scene. "We had originally positioned the shooter in the tree outside the window from the angle; but when we ran it here, the angle was off slightly." He pointed out the trajectory from the tree and then from the perspective in the house.

Wolfe took over the narrative. "They don't match if you use the tree, you can see that here. But if we widen the focus…" He traced the line that now overlapped the trajectory. "… it had to come from here." He used his light pen to circle the building the lines converged on. "This is an apartment building right across the alley."

Caine studied the image closely. "Very good, gentlemen. I'll get the warrant." He stopped on his way out the door. "Get Calleigh, I want her in on this one too. Meet me at the scene."

Wolfe looked over at Delko. "Why doesn't he seem surprised?"

"That's H," Eric responded dryly. "He's always one step ahead of us, you know that. Let's get moving."

She stood, intending to track down a drink of water at the least, only to be stopped by the officer at the door. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I have to keep an eye on you."

"Then would you be so kind as to bring me some water, Officer? I am dreadfully thirsty." Lily wasn't afraid of being held in custody; she had known she would be from the moment she had mentioned her vision. She was getting used to it. She only wondered how long it would be before Caine believed her, if he ever did.

The man nodded and stepped across the hall to the machine and brought her back a bottle of purified water, which she accepted gratefully and swallowed almost half of immediately while she paced the room. Something was bothering her, but she couldn't put her finger on it yet.

Detective Tripp met the CSIs in front of the apartment house half an hour later. Caine held out the warrant to the building super, but he barely glanced at it. "Never had a tenant in trouble before," he said amiably. "You want Two C, right? He's my latest rental and I don't see him much."

There was no answer to the repeated knock, nor to the calls for "Mr. Delgado" to answer the door. The super shrugged and unlocked the door. "Like I said, I barely see him."

"Thank you, sir, now if you would just wait in the hallway, we'll let you know when we're through," Caine answered courteously. "Okay, people, let's get to work."

They quickly ruled out the living area of the small apartment as the point of origin; neither of the small windows faced Busfield's home. Nonetheless, they gathered what trace evidence they could before moving into the bedroom.

"Watch your step," Calleigh called out. "Someone really tore this place up before leaving." She moved farther into the room, giving a practiced sweep of her eyes over the destruction.

Wolfe gave a low groan. "Man, I don't think anything's left," he murmured. "What'd he do, decide to swing from the rafters and they fell on him or something?"

The only item in the room that seemed relatively unharmed was the window, and that was debatable. Delko swept the frame for prints, but found none. Then he raised the sill and approximated the shooter's stance. "If I were the shooter, I'd have found an easier shot," he said caustically. "He would've had to time it perfectly to miss hitting one of those branches if there was any wind at all. It's a one in a million shot."

"Which means we are looking for a professional," Caine mused as he picked over the clothing that had been tossed seemingly everywhere. "Let's bag everything and get it back to the lab. Pay special attention to trace, people, we don't know if he was alone in this room." He gave a moment's thought to Lily, still in the interview room. "Calleigh, find anything?"

"Not yet. Not even the floor. Still picking through all the debris over here." Calleigh's voice was somewhat muffled since she was behind the ruins of a chest of drawers. "Hold up a sec; got a shell casing here." She held up the object in question. "Two more. That's it, at least here." She swept the area again, then shook her head. "Nothing else in this spot anyway." She turned the casing over and examined it closely. "Horatio… these casings are from standard military rounds. I'll have to run it to be certain, but I think it's a .308."

"Very good, very good indeed." Caine scanned the room carefully. His gut was telling him he was missing something. A professional shooter with that kind of skill would be a high-priced individual; unexpected for the murder of a small businessman. Usually there was far more involved. He stepped back into the living area to speak to Tripp. "Frank, why would someone hire a high-end hitter for someone like Busfield?" he asked simply.

"Good question. I'm guessing you have a theory." Tripp was used to rhetorical questions from Caine; they had worked a lot of cases together. "Has to be something more to it. Busfield's got no record, checked out all across the board. Not even a print on file."

"Not a theory, exactly." Caine was peering out the side window of the loft, his expression again perfectly composed. "More like a gut feeling. Something about this is very off." He turned back to Tripp as he slid his sunglasses into place, as if he were uncertain how to proceed.

Tripp almost did a double take. In all the years he'd known the man, he could count on the fingers of one hand the times he'd seen Caine hesitant. "What's on your mind, Horatio?" he asked bluntly.

"A young lady who came in this morning, Frank, and she's waiting in Interview now. A young lady with an incredible story and a rather unsettling knowledge of this case, considering we've yet to release any details." He gave another glance out of the window and started to walk away. "I think it's time to talk to her again."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The characters from CSI: Miami belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer productions, and probably a few other people I've forgotten to mention. Lily Montalvo, however, is my creation and I'd like to be consulted before she's used in anything else.**

**Dedications: To my tireless Beta-reader, Ithil-Valon, who gave me the courage to branch out past the Lord of the Rings fandom I've been writing in for a while now. She also occasionally gives me the necessary kick in the pants to keep me going. Thanks for that, hon. Also for Evendim, who gave me the courage to post that first LOTR story, and has graciously invited me to play in her playground anytime I like. Thank you so much. And last, but certainly not least, my partner AJ who is my strength and my rock, and provides interference when I'm writing so I can concentrate on plotlines… and helps me brainstorm when I run out of them. Usually with chocolate and late night movie-fests to, you know, research. Lots of eye candy. **

**THIS STORY IS SET IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that some features, places, and faces from canon won't fit. It is set sometime after the season 2 ender, 10-7, so Tim Speedle is no longer in the picture… but it is also set after Calleigh's return to Ballistics, so sometime during Season 3… I hope. I just can't see her anywhere else.**

**All that said, enjoy! If you like it, leave a review! If you don't like it, Leave a review! If you hate it and think I should be shot, leave a review! Get the hint? Just be certain and leave me an email address so I can answer you… **

**Chapter Two**

Lily regarded Horatio steadily as he returned to the building, noting idly that he had brought someone else with him. A detective, no doubt, and they were now going to question her on her knowledge of this case.

She heaved a heavy sigh. It would be so much easier if they would simply believe her, but she had no illusions about that possibility. These men dealt in facts, in tangible evidence. What she had to offer was far, far beyond their experience, and therefore, of little use to them. How could she make them see that it was no less valid than their methods?

She stood as they entered the room, extending a hand to the new arrival. "I am Lily Montalvo," she introduced herself.

Tripp shook her hand quickly and dropped it, looking to Caine, who simply raised an eyebrow. "Well, Miss Montalvo, Lt. Caine here says you have quite a handle on our case," he began simply. "Why don't you tell me about it."

"It is quite simple, really," she replied evenly. "As I mentioned to Lt. Caine, I 'ave been subject to visions since I was very young. An' I must tell of them when one occurs, or the vision torments my waking mind until I cannot think, cannot function. In effect, I become increasingly non-verbal until I may speak of it to anyone 'oo will listen. It is a curse, one my mother insists she 'as given me." She watched the skepticism on both their faces and nearly groaned aloud. "You 'ave processed the scene as I tol' you? An' foun' the shell casings where I said?" Oh, that wasn't good. She knew she had an accent, but it was getting worse by the moment, which meant she wasn't handling the stress very well. She made a conscious effort to control it. "And yet you have more questions for me."

"Yes, actually, we have," Caine delivered smoothly as he took the seat across from her. His eyes never left her face, however, and she began to feel uncomfortable under his steady regard. "You mentioned the chest of drawers at the apartment. We did find shell casings behind it, three, as you described. What I need to know now, Lily, is how you knew exactly where they would be." He wouldn't mention the state of the tiny apartment; if she knew that, she almost certainly had to have been present. His team was already processing everything with special attention paid to trace evidence. Somehow, this woman knew things she shouldn't; and he didn't believe in visions, or ESP, or anything he couldn't logically explain. Logic told him she had to have been present at the scene, or at least spoken with the suspect.

"I 'ave explained it. I saw the room, in a vision. I 'ave never been there; I 'ave never met Monsieur Dominguez. I 'ave not seen 'is face; all I 'ave is 'is name." Lily was almost ready to stomp her foot, she was so frustrated, but she knew it would do no good. Police always went with their first impression; and that was telling them she was involved in some fashion because she knew too much. They would have a very rough time accepting her at face value, even once their other options had been exhausted. "If you check your evidence, you will believe me. I was not there."

"You said you 'saw' the room. Can you describe it to me?" Caine was determined to place her at the scene. She simply knew too much to not have been involved. Her answer would tell him a lot.

Lily took another deep breath. "The apartment, it was very small, only two rooms. The first room was a living area, very cozy, not very well furnished. A sofa, one chair. Both blue. An' the other room, the bedroom… it was destroyed. 'e had torn up the room so you would 'ave to work harder for the evidence you need. Many things were out of place, many things were broken, tossed around. The blankets were on the floor, the bedframe destroyed, the only intact surface was the window facing. An' he 'ad thrown the casings be'ind the bureau, to leave you a calling card. 'e wants you to know it was 'im, Monsieur Caine."

"Did he?" Caine pounced on that statement. "And just how do you know why he left the casings where he did, Lily? Because you were there, weren't you?"

"No!" Her denial was no less forceful for its softness. "I was never there. Your evidence will tell you so. I only know these things because of my vision. I have never seen 'is face, so I cannot describe him to you. But I know 'e 'as some connection to you, an' 'e wishes to make you suffer before 'e kills you." That was not how she had meant to tell him what she had felt during the vision.

"Here's my problem, Lily. You know entirely too much about this case." Caine stood and began to pace. "You knew the victim's name, the location of the shooter, you're intimately acquainted with the location. You even seem to have some insight into our suspect's motives. That says to me that you're involved."

"Let's cut to the chase here, okay?" Tripp jumped in quickly. "Why don't you just tell us where our shooter is, and we'll see if we can make you a deal."

"I would tell you in a 'eartbeat if I knew," Lily replied quietly. She knew that it was important now to keep her composure; they were reacting just like every other police officer she had ever encountered. "I don't."

"We're going to place you at the scene, Lily. Evidence doesn't lie." Caine again regarded her steadily, holding her gaze. "We have enough from your own words to hold you indefinitely."

"I would expect nothing less, Monsieur Caine." She didn't turn away from his regard. She returned his gaze unflinchingly, tilting her chin just a fraction upward, not in defiance, but determination. "But your evidence will prove I am telling the truth. I was never there. I do not know your 'shooter', I only know what I 'ave seen. An' your evidence will prove that."

Tripp moved forward. "Let's go," he said simply. He spoke to Caine though his eyes never left their suspect. "I'll get her processed and put her in holding." He gestured for Lily to precede him to the door and spoke to the uniform outside. Then he turned back to her. "You're not going to give him any trouble, are you?" he asked quietly. He didn't think she would.

She shook her head and allowed the uniform to place the cuffs on her and lead her away. Caine watched her go, his expression composed, though his eyes were troubled.

"I know that look, Horatio," Tripp said casually as he watched them lead Lily away. "What's on your mind?"

"That young woman is very sure of herself, Frank. She's too sure the evidence will bear her out. Something isn't adding up here."

"She mentioned the shooter was playing games with you specifically. That's pretty damning evidence in itself." Tripp was watching his friend's face closely. "How could she know that if she wasn't involved?"

"How indeed, Frank. I'm sure she's connected to our shooter somehow. We just have to find the connection." Caine paused a moment. "I'll be in the lab."

Ithil-Valon: Very nice review, very in depth, I love it! And so glad you're enjoying it! (As if you wouldn't LOL)

Leetah: Thanks for the vote of confidence. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the first one!

Dread Lady Freya: It's always good to broaden your horizons LOL And yes, it's quite challenging! I hope you enjoy this as much as the others.

Mareana: Thank you! I'm always glad to hear that my characterizations are on track.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The characters from CSI: Miami belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer productions, and probably a few other people I've forgotten to mention. Lily Montalvo, however, is my creation and I'd like to be consulted before she's used in anything else.**

**Dedications: To my tireless Beta-reader, Ithil-Valon, who gave me the courage to branch out past the Lord of the Rings fandom I've been writing in for a while now. She also occasionally gives me the necessary kick in the pants to keep me going. Thanks for that, hon. Also for Evendim, who gave me the courage to post that first LOTR story, and has graciously invited me to play in her playground anytime I like. Thank you so much. And last, but certainly not least, my partner AJ who is my strength and my rock, and provides interference when I'm writing so I can concentrate on plotlines… and helps me brainstorm when I run out of them. Usually with chocolate and late night movie-fests to, you know, research. Lots of eye candy. **

**THIS STORY IS SET IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that some features, places, and faces from canon won't fit. It is set sometime after the season 2 ender, 10-7, so Tim Speedle is no longer in the picture… but it is also set after Calleigh's return to Ballistics, so sometime during Season 3… I hope. I just can't see her anywhere else.**

**If you like it, leave a review! If you don't like it, Leave a review! If you hate it and think I should be shot, leave a review! Get the hint? **

**Chapter Three**

The man dropped change into the payphone and dialed deliberately. He waited only until the receiver was picked up on the other end. "First stage is done. I left the shells where they could find be found easily, and trashed the rest of the place." A slight pause. "Right. Instructions?"

He listened for several minutes. "Understood." He replaced the receiver quietly without comment and turned to leave; he had an appointment with his next victim.

* * *

"I'm telling you, boss, there wasn't anyone else in that room," Wolfe explained stridently. "Ask Delko. We both processed everything twice. There's absolutely no trace evidence of anyone but the shooter. And all of that is blank. No skin tags, no prints, no unusual fibers, nothing. Whoever it is, he's an expert. He trashed the scene so we'd have to work harder to get any evidence, but he never left any in the first place." Ryan threw up his hands. "We even swabbed the windowpanes. Nothing. No DNA, no prints, no nothing."

"And that, Ryan, is simply impossible," Caine shot back smoothly.

"I would have thought so, too, but the evidence is clear. There isn't any." Wolfe gave Delko a quick glance.

Delko, in turn, gave a slight cough to get Horatio's attention. "H, why the fixation? What makes you so sure there was someone else there? We can't even put the shooter at the scene, except for the shells. And, as Calleigh says, they're the most common make in the country. No help there."

"Eric, I have a young lady in Holding who can describe the scene in perfect detail, right down to the placement of those casings," Caine answered after a moment's hesitation. "She knows the victim's name, the location of the shooter, everything about this case that we have discovered so far, and I don't have to tell you, it's impossible for her to know so much without her being involved."

Delko and Wolfe exchanged another telling glance. "That's how you knew about the angle of the shot," Wolfe began. "She told you."

Eric nodded. "But we still can't place her at the scene, H. There's no evidence to support the shooter was even there, much less a witness. Only thing we got is the casings. We got nothing."

"Busfield was a small businessman with no record, gentlemen, but someone hired a high-end shooter to do the job," Horatio reminded them firmly. "We found nothing in the physical evidence, so now we concentrate on paper. Get me financial records, business associates, everything you can find out about our victim. We need to try another tack." He wasn't about to tell them of the threat Lily had mentioned. "Find me something to link this young woman to our shooter, guys. Or find me the shooter. Right now I'd take either one."

He left the room quickly and tracked down Calleigh Duquesne. "Eric tells me your shell casings are worthless," he said conversationally.

"Unfortunately he's right," she responded as she handed him her report. ".308's are the most common shell in the world right now. Without a reference sample, I can't even identify which of several different weapons fired the rounds."

"Keep trying. No matches in the system?" This was just getting better and better. "Calleigh, I have a DB with no hint of scandal attached to him, and a high-powered hitter did the job. Get me something I can work with."

"I'll do my best." Calleigh always gave him her best, and he knew it. He also knew this one was starting to get under his skin, in a way he wasn't familiar with. He didn't like spinning his wheels, and he absolutely hated having someone he knew was involved and he couldn't prove it. But something else was bothering him now, something he wouldn't quite put his finger on.

He watched Calleigh return to the Ballistics Lab, his mind again cataloging what they knew so far, which was very little. No match on the castings; whoever had been in the backyard had either worn moccasins or some form of cover on his shoes. The shooter had been clever; trashing the scene had prevented them from finding any potential evidence. But how did Lily fit? Something wasn't adding up; logically, she had to have been at the scene or in close contact with the shooter, but there was no evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, to prove it. No, what was concerning him now was the gut feeling that she was telling the truth.

That was impossible. ESP, psychic visions, whatever one wanted to call them simply didn't exist. Yet she seemed so sure of her story. Had she perhaps repeated it so many times she had begun to believe it?

On a hunch, he returned to ballistics. "Calleigh, I have another project for you," he began slowly.

* * *

Lily sat alone in the small holding cell, considering her circumstances. Caine was the most stubborn disbeliever she had ever met; he had even had her processed, looking for links to his crime scene. He would find none, but that didn't alleviate the embarrassment of the examination. At least he had shown the courtesy of providing a female CSI to do it.

She was letting her anger simmer, but it was bound to boil over soon. Nowhere in the country had she ever encountered such a closed mind as his. Not that she expected preferential treatment; quite the contrary. She had expected the treatment she had received, just not the severity of it. She had never been in holding more than a couple of hours.

None of the others in the cell had bothered her, which she counted a blessing. She wasn't small, by any means, but neither was she particularly strong. But when the familiar mist began to crawl across her vision, she almost panicked; she would be helpless if they did decide on some mischief.

The warning this time was vague, almost too vague. Voices, a shot… nothing she could identify with any measure of assurance. She could see nothing of the location, no faces came to her, only the voices and a single shot. But one voice in particular began to stand out in her mind. Mellow, not deep but layered with intensity.

The sequence repeated endlessly in her head. Caine's voice, another man's, and a single shot. Endless repetition, with her finding no way to escape the vision. She was beginning to feel trapped and helpless when a touch from without broke the cycle.

Her eyes flew open, the jade of them meeting the surprised eyes of the guard who had come in to check on her. "You all right, lady?" he was asking stridently.

She nodded, but she could feel the blood draining from her face as the import of her vision began to clear. She took a moment to process the information, her brow furrowed slightly, as the guard began to back away. Caine's voice had been different in her vision, sharper, not frightened, but certainly there had been concern. Even perhaps a bit of defiance?

Her hand shot out and grasped the guard's arm with surprising strength. "I need to speak to Lt. Caine," she managed to say evenly. "Immediately."

**Leetah: Stay tuned, the best is yet to come! Things are about to start jumping!**

**Dread Lady Freya: Oh, honey, if you only knew LOL Feed that muse more chocolate! I'm still waiting for your next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The characters from CSI: Miami belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer productions, and probably a few other people I've forgotten to mention. Lily Montalvo, however, is my creation and I'd like to be consulted before she's used in anything else.**

**Dedications: To my tireless Beta-reader, Ithil-Valon, who gave me the courage to branch out past the Lord of the Rings fandom I've been writing in for a while now. She also occasionally gives me the necessary kick in the pants to keep me going. Thanks for that, hon. Also for Evendim, who gave me the courage to post that first LOTR story, and has graciously invited me to play in her playground anytime I like. Thank you so much. And last, but certainly not least, my partner AJ who is my strength and my rock, and provides interference when I'm writing so I can concentrate on plotlines… and helps me brainstorm when I run out of them. Usually with chocolate and late night movie-fests to, you know, research. Lots of eye candy. **

**THIS STORY IS SET IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that some features, places, and faces from canon won't fit. It is set sometime after the season 2 ender, 10-7, so Tim Speedle is no longer in the picture… but it is also set after Calleigh's return to Ballistics, so sometime during Season 3… I hope. I just can't see her anywhere else.**

**All that said, enjoy! If you like it, leave a review! If you don't like it, Leave a review! If you hate it and think I should be shot, leave a review! Get the hint? **

**Chapter Four**

Calleigh raised her head from the scope and rolled it on her neck to ease the stiffness. She had processed Lily Montalvo and come straight back to the lab, where she had been hunched over her scope for several hours, trying to find something that patently didn't want to be found. She had to at least find the weapon type that had fired those rounds.

She had set one of the casings into a solution to attempt to bring out the base markings; they had been filed off, presumably to prevent identification. So far, it hadn't worked; but now, as she drew it from the solution, the felt the first beginnings of the engraving beginning to reappear. That would please Horatio, almost as much as it pleased her. She could at least track the manufacturer.

Another five minutes should do it, she estimated. And then she would have something solid to give Caine; or so she hoped. At least the manufacturer's identity would narrow down her search for the exact weapon.

It wasn't like she could just compare the rifling on the casings. They were smooth, unmarked. Wait, that was it! Smooth, unmarked casings, casings from bullets that had never been fired! How had she missed that? It was such a simple dodge; but it also meant the placement was deliberate. Either the shooter was taunting them, or it was a case of classic misdirection. She needed to talk to Horatio and quick.

* * *

Wolfe gave a yip of surprise and turned to Delko, who had just swiveled his chair to face Wolfe. "You won't believe this," Wolfe began. "This guy's got no record for anything, right? So why am I finding regular deposits into his savings account, cash deposits, huge ones? His business was on the ropes, it couldn't account for this much cash."

"That's not all. Phone records show regular international calls," Delko supplied with a trace of a smile. "Give you three guesses where they went."

"We need to find H," Wolfe growled. "This changes everything. If he was smuggling stuff into the country, it supplies a motive for the killing. We didn't have that before."

"And explains the need for a high-end hitter, too. The cartels don't mess around when someone crosses 'em. Let's find H." Eric was up and moving almost as fast as Wolfe.

* * *

Horatio stepped into the interview room with his skepticism firmly intact. No doubt Lily was going to give him another "vision." He wasn't buying it.

Lily regarded him steadily. "You 'ave no faith in what you cannot explain, do you?" she asked bluntly. "I 'ave seen something you should listen to. You are in great danger, Horatio Caine." It was coming off a lot more mystical than she intended, but with an inward shrug, she continued. "I 'ave seen a confrontation between you an' another man. A deadly one. There are voices, yours and one other, a male, and your voice holds something like defiance. Then, a gunshot." She shrugged. "It is very vague, this vision. But it is a true sight, just the same. Someone, maybe this Dominguez I 'ave spoken of, will try to kill you. An' it will 'appen soon."

Caine raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The silence stretched between them, thin and brittle, with neither of them willing to break it. Finally Horatio turned a straight-backed chair around and straddled it facing her. "I want to believe you, Lily, but you're making it very difficult," he said softly. "If you would just tell me the truth about what you know, it would be easier."

"I am telling you the truth!" she replied vehemently. "It is not my fault you don' believe in visions, monsieur. There are things that cannot be explained by science, _oui?_ This is merely another of them. My visions are real, an' I am trying to save your life. I know what I 'ave seen. I directed you to the place your shooter fired from, _oui?_ An' provided you the location of the shell casings 'e left for you. Your evidence cannot place me at your crime scene because I was never there, also true? Think what you may about my gift, monsieur Caine. It is real." She was losing her composure rapidly, and uncertain why. Of course, the fact that this man refused to believe what was patently true, what had been proven true, might have something to do with it.

Caine fought the urge to shake his head, settling for holding her gaze with his own, trying to gauge her honesty, her integrity. Silence descended again, and still they remained, each trying to force the other to bend, neither willing to back down. Finally he gave another sigh and rose. "Lily, I want to believe you," he repeated steadily. "The evidence clears you of being at the crime scene, but that doesn't explain how you knew it so intimately. Someone had to have described it to you in minute detail, Lily, and I need to know who that someone was. I need a name."

"I 'ave given you a name," Lily replied firmly. "Eduardo Dominguez. I cannot describe 'im, but I know the name. 'e is the one you should find." A frisson of cold threaded its way down her spine and she stiffened. Something was wrong, very wrong. Something… a handgun, a dry click where there should be a muzzle flash… a dark-haired man falling… and blood, a river of it, draining the life from him. She was caught in the grip of it, the horror of the scene, the stark pain in Caine's face as he held the younger man while the life ran from him in a red flood.

She didn't want to use what she had just seen; the pain she had witnessed was horrific, soul-searing. The dark-haired one had been someone Caine cared for dearly, she could see that; a close friend, a co-worker, very close.

"Lily?" Caine's voice was soft and his fingers touched her hand lightly. "Are you all right?" He had been nearly to the door when she had blanked out. She had made no sound, but something had drawn his eye. She had been sitting absolutely still, barely breathing, her hands on the table but her expression… her expression had been chilling. She had been in the grip of something he didn't understand, that he still didn't understand.

She forced herself to focus on the sound of his voice, to come back. The vision had been devastating. Clear, concise, and starkly brutal. "No," she whispered. "Monsieur Caine… 'is death was not your fault. 'e did not clean 'is gun properly, _vraiment?_ It misfired because 'e neglected it. That is not your fault."

Caine's blood ran cold. She couldn't possibly have known that. The official report had stated 'weapon misfire, cause unknown.' No one but Calleigh Duquesne and himself had known the truth; and they only knew because it had happened before. Speedle was careless of his weapon; but the higher-ups had never known. It had been one reason he had been so obsessed with Wolfe's weapon, when he interviewed for Speed's position.

He needed to think this through. She could not possibly know; but she did.

"Lily, we can't hold you, not based on the evidence, but I'd like for you to stay here for a while," he said firmly, giving no hint as to his thoughts. "I'll be back." And he strode out the door, sunglasses in hand, his mind in turmoil.

* * *

**Ithil-valon: You ain't kiddin! I think she might have shocked him, though…**

**RigelsDarkAngel: I think he might be a lot closer to believing her than he was… stay tuned!**

**Dragon: Glad you're enjoying this! It's been a lot of fun writing so far, too!**

**Dread Lady Freya: Hope you enjoy this! I bet H surprised you LOL**

**Leetah: I am so glad you're enjoying this. Stay tuned! The best is yet to come!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. The characters from CSI: Miami belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer productions, and probably a few other people I've forgotten to mention. Lily Montalvo, however, is my creation and I'd like to be consulted before she's used in anything else.**

**Dedications: To my tireless Beta-reader, Ithil-Valon, who gave me the courage to branch out past the Lord of the Rings fandom I've been writing in for a while now. She also occasionally gives me the necessary kick in the pants to keep me going. Thanks for that, hon. Also for Evendim, who gave me the courage to post that first LOTR story, and has graciously invited me to play in her playground anytime I like. Thank you so much. And last, but certainly not least, my partner AJ who is my strength and my rock, and provides interference when I'm writing so I can concentrate on plotlines… and helps me brainstorm when I run out of them. Usually with chocolate and late night movie-fests to, you know, research. Lots of eye candy. **

**THIS STORY IS SET IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that some features, places, and faces from canon won't fit. It is set sometime after the season 3 ender, 10-7, so Tim Speedle is no longer in the picture… but it is also set after Calleigh's return to Ballistics, so sometime during Season 4… I hope. I just can't see her anywhere else.**

**All that said, enjoy! If you like it, leave a review! If you don't like it, Leave a review! If you hate it and think I should be shot, leave a review! Get the hint? **

**Chapter Five**

Horatio Caine was a troubled man. He was a trained investigator, a logical, rational, methodical man. What Lily had done… it passed the boundaries of everything he understood to be real, and it had shaken him badly.

How had she known? No one had known what passed between Tim Speedle and himself on that final day. No one had known about Speed's careless maintenance of his weapon, except for himself and Calleigh, and maybe Eric. Most likely, Eric had known; he and Speed were best friends. But certainly it hadn't been in the official report.

Occam's Razor theorized that the simplest of explanations was most likely the true. In this case, however, Horatio had difficulty accepting the simplest explanation. There was no hard evidence, no physical evidence, to prove the existence of psychic visions. And without something tangible to refer to, Caine couldn't accept it.

There lay the dilemma.

Step back, examine the events again, search for something that might explain Lily's knowledge. But no matter how he looked at things, no matter how many times he replayed the incident in his mind, he could find no rational, logical explanation for it. She could not have known; yet she had. The only explanation, rational or otherwise, was that she had been telling the truth.

Caine took a deep breath. Once accepted, his course of action was clear. He needed to hear what she had to say…

… and this time he would listen.

(Scene Break)

Alexx Woods was about to begin her autopsy on Victor Busfield, and so far, none of the CSI's had appeared. She always waited on a CSI to be present; hopefully they hadn't forgotten again. Granted, it had only happened once, but once was enough.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Calleigh breezed through the door. "Alexx, have you seen Horatio?" she asked as she came to stand beside the body. "I've looked for him everywhere and can't find him."

"Did you try paging him?" Alexx was carefully checking the body as she spoke. "I've got penetrating wounds, three, consistent with gunshots. Entry points between the atlas and axis vertebrae, C1 and C2, between the T5 and T6, just behind the heart, and between the T8 and T9, just below the heart. Poor man didn't stand a chance." She carefully rolled the body to lie on its back once more. "Corresponding exit wounds on the front. Preliminary findings indicate COD to be gunshot trauma to the spinal column."

"I did page him, Alexx, but he didn't answer and that's just not like him." Calleigh watched carefully. "Why shoot three times, why not just one? The cervical shot would have killed him instantly."

"It would have," Alexx agreed quietly. "Severed the spinal cord and destroyed the brain stem with the first shot. My guess is that the others were just insurance." She touched Busfield's cheek gently. "Poor guy. Whoever did this didn't take any chances." She continued her examination of the body. "No, that isn't like Horatio. Maybe he got held up somewhere." She carefully examined the skin, but found no trace evidence. "Nothing else of interest on the external examination. Fairly straightforward, looks like. One shot to the base of the skull, shattered the brainstem, one shot to the chest area, exploded his heart, and one just below the heart to finish the job. I'll let you know if I find anything else on the internal exam." She looked up at Calleigh for a moment. "You go find Horatio."

Calleigh nodded and left the room quickly. She hadn't really expected anything more than Alexx had found; but she had been hoping. The wound size and tracks were consistent with the casings she had recovered; but the casings she had found had never been fired. It was simply another piece to a puzzle they were still finding pieces to.

Those casings from the scene had been deliberately placed. Either it was a challenge to the authorities, or a challenge directly to the lab itself. They simply needed more information, and Calleigh had no idea where it was going to come from at this point. Everything had been processed from the apartment; there had been nothing of interest there except the casings. No trace to be found, nothing. Either their shooter was an expert in crime scene cleanup – which led to its own set of complications – or he had been the most careful person on the planet.

Calleigh didn't believe anyone could be that careful. People were constantly shedding skin cells and hair, even the best groomed people. It was an unavoidable fact of nature. To have found no trace indicated certain precautions that the general public just didn't think of. So, their high-priced assassin was deliberately challenging someone by leaving the casings.

She spotted Horatio coming down the hall toward her and called out. "Hey, handsome, I've been looking for you. Got some information off those casings." She handed him the report and watched while he scanned it. "They've never been inside a weapon. Someone left them there deliberately for us to find."

"That isn't much of a surprise, is it?" Horatio responded as he handed the report back to her. "No trace, the scene destroyed… and a victim with no record, no visible motive for his death. A high-end shooter takes out a small businessman, but there's no motive."

"And there's no question he was the intended victim, either. I just talked to Alexx and she confirmed the shots were placed to insure a kill. She found no trace evidence on the victim at all, which isn't surprising since he was shot from a distance in his own home. First shot shattered the brainstem; instant kill. No need for the other two, except for added insurance. One directly through the heart, one directly beneath. Overkill."

"Overkill. And no visible motive." Caine was getting a headache.

"I think we've got that for you," Eric said as he and Wolfe approached. He handed over a sheaf of paper and Wolfe spoke up.

"International calls, mostly to South America. Huge bank drops, cash deposits. Suggests a possible drug connection; that'd make a good motive."

Caine took the offered paperwork with a slight smile. "Very good, very good indeed. Stay on this, guys. These deposits were routed through another bank directly to his account; find out where they came from. Backtrack it all the way; and see if you can find out who that international number belongs to." He turned back to Calleigh. "Overkill. And those casings deliberately left for us to find." He let his mind wander for a moment. A decision was reached; a Rubicon crossed. "Calleigh, we need to talk to Miss Montalvo."

"You believe her?" Calleigh asked quietly.

"I do. It's a long story, Calleigh, and we don't have time for it right now, but yes, I do believe her. And I believe she might have more useful information that she hasn't given us yet. She might not even realize she has it." Caine headed toward Interrogation, without waiting for her to catch up.

She had to stretch her legs, but she managed to catch him before he went inside. "You didn't answer your page, Horatio, or your cell, and that's not like you," she said quietly as she took hold of his arm to slow him down. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Why do you believe this woman? Visions are bunk, they don't exist."

"Calleigh, I promise to explain everything when I understand it," he replied, his voice soft but intense. He held her eyes for a long moment. "I need you to trust me. I need you to trust me on this."

"I do trust you, you know that," she replied, stung by the implied criticism. "But I need to know what's going on, too. I need to know how this woman convinced you she can see the future."

Caine sighed and looked down. "She knew something that no one else knows, Calleigh, no one but you and I," he said slowly. "She knew about Speed." He hoped she understood; but he was certain from her expression that she didn't. "She described the scene to me, Calleigh, the entire scene from the day Speed was shot. She told me he hadn't cleaned his weapon and that's what caused the misfire." He knew she couldn't misunderstand the significance of that revelation.

Calleigh's eyes widened. No one had known the true cause of that misfire, no one except her and Horatio. "It's impossible."

"I thought so, too. But her knowledge has been incredibly accurate so far. It either went to involvement in this case, or accurate foreknowledge. The evidence clears her of being at the scene, and you know it. You processed her." Caine gave Calleigh a shrewd glance. "She knows things, things that she can't possibly have access to. And if her knowledge will help break this case, then I will use it." His eyes bored into hers, intense with his desire for her to understand.

She nodded slowly. "And you were taking time to think it through," she said softly, but her voice was firm. "Honestly, Horatio, you've never been irresponsible. Why didn't you answer your page?"

"Because I was thinking it through, Calleigh." He lowered his eyes once more, studying the floor. "A mistake in judgment, maybe, but I needed the time." He looked up at her again, his eyes intense. "We need to talk to Lily, see what else she knows."

Calleigh held his eyes for a moment more, and then nodded slowly. There was no way this woman could have known about Speed; it was a very compelling argument for her honesty. "All right. But stop shutting us out, Horatio. We're in this together. Now let's go talk to her."

He nodded and held the door for her. "Thank you for waiting," he said to Lily as they came in. "We need to talk a bit about what you know. What can you tell me about this Eduardo Dominguez?"

Lily slumped slightly in her seat. She had been watching the exchange between the two criminalists with a wary eye. He believed her; he had to believe her, he was asking for clarification. Her sense of relief was overwhelming. "I don't know much more than I 'ave already told you," she replied quietly. "I 'ave not seen a face to go with the name. Truthfully, I am not certain where the name comes in; but it is connected with Monsieur Busfield in some fashion. The connection is very clear."

"That's good to know." Caine was watching her closely. "Tell me about Busfield, please. I need to hear exactly what you know, and how you knew it. Don't spare anything, please."

Lily took a deep breath. "The firs' vision I 'ad was four days ago. I saw Monsieur Busfield in 'is 'ome, speaking on the telephone. 'e was very agitated, but I could not 'ear what 'e was saying, but 'e was definitely angry. Then there were three shots. The first one came out through his throat, the others from his chest. 'e was shot from be'ind. Three shots, all deadly. They came from the apartment across the alleyway. The killer destroyed the apartment to keep you from finding any evidence. 'e did, 'owever, leave three shell casings for you to find. 'e wants your attention, Monsieur Caine, but I do not yet know why."

"Can you tell me the condition of the casings found?" Calleigh asked quickly. She was still having difficulty believing in visions, and sympathized with Horatio's dilemma.

"They were unfired," Lily answered firmly. "They had never been in the weapon. They were deliberately placed for you to find."

"And what weapons are they compatible with?" Calleigh wasn't giving up on this. "Can you tell us that?"

"I don' know that," Lily responded slowly. "I do not know guns, no matter what I see. I am not even certain the gunman was male. I could not see more than the outline."

Calleigh pulled a photograph out of the folder she was carrying. "Can you tell me who this man is?" she asked as she slid it across the table.

Lily scanned it for barely a moment. "Of course. This is Monsieur Busfield."

"And this one?" Calleigh was playing a gamble. If the woman could identify this photo…

Lily studied this one for a bit longer. "Your brother," she said softly as she twitched it back across the table. "Younger, I think." She arched an eyebrow in Calleigh's direction, waiting for the return salvo. This was not a game she played; and she was well aware that she could have muffed the identification. Her gift had chosen a very good time to help her.

Calleigh felt the blood drain from her face and fought to cover it. Of course, everyone at the lab knew she had brothers, but it wasn't common knowledge. "Very good. What else can you tell us?" She was as near to convinced as she could get. Not even Horatio had seen that picture; she had received it only that morning. She supposed it could be just shrewd guesswork on Lily's part; but she didn't think so. For one thing, Bobby didn't look anything like her. Dark hair, dark eyes… he looked much more like their father had when he was younger.

"Nothing from my first vision. I saw something else while I was in 'olding, but it wasn't a true vision," Lily replied evenly. "But I will not discuss it without 'is permission." She indicated Horatio.

Caine nodded. "No secrets, Lily."

Lily took a deep breath and focused her attention on Calleigh once more. "The vision… there was no visual to it, only sound. I 'eard two voices, both male. I could not clearly 'ear the words… but one of the voices was Monsieur Caine. He was angry, per'aps even defiant for some reason; an' then there was a single shot fired. I do not know who fired, nor whether anyone was hit. It was very vague."

"Well, then, we're just going to have to keep an eye on you, Horatio," Calleigh said firmly. She would have said more, but both pagers began to sound off.

"Lily, I'd like you to stay here a while longer," Caine said quietly as he checked the display. "Calleigh, let's get to work."


End file.
